


S.C.R.E.W.

by Linuviael



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Play, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Audio Pornography, Aural Kink, Beautiful Agony, Character(s) of Color, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, F/M, HP: EWE, Light Bondage, Loud Masturbation, Ministry Of Magic AU, Or maybe it is, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pairing To Be Revealed, Phone Sex, Possibly Unrequited Love, Post Hogwarts AU, Quiet Masturbation, Secret Admirer, Semi-Clothed Masturbation, Sensory Deprivation, Sex Toys, Slow To Update, Strangers, Striptease (Sort Of), That's Not A Penis Joke, The Pursuit, Voice Kink, Voyeurism, Wizarding Wireless Network, audio porn, female orgasm, magical objects, male orgasm, no, radio sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-12 05:22:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7087006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linuviael/pseuds/Linuviael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pervy audiophiles are tuning into a weekly radio broadcast of complete strangers getting off. Draco Malfoy is about to become one of them.</p><p>《To be read with a grain of salt (Tequila optional); I just wanted to write smutty Wizard porn.》</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Kind Of Hush

The Ministry of Magic was abuzz with rumours again. This time, of an anonymous radio show where people dialed in every Sunday night with recordings of themselves getting off. Draco had first heard whispers of it striding past the break room, hopeful queries before inter-office meetings, then lager-tinged confessions at the nearby pub after last call. Sure, he always enjoyed his partners when they got vocal, but was it really that big of a deal when just the sound was isolated? According to the entire 5th floor, the answer was a resounding YES! Not wanting to be the last one in the know, Draco found himself pulling strings and calling in some unused IOUs to land a war-time resistance wireless by the end of that week.  
  
The battle may have ended, but he remained ever a resourceful Malfoy. The name had grown less threatening over the past several years, what with Lucius locked away in Azkaban along with the remaining living Death Eaters. Nonetheless Draco still stayed in touch with a few of his father's contacts after diverting the family funds into more charitable, i.e. legal, ventures. He couldn't see why they had to sacrifice everything from their former life. That just wasn't practical.  
  
Having swapped out the suit he wore to visit his mother earlier in the day for Sunday Brunch at the Manor for a pair of dark grey tartan pajama bottoms and a faded Weird Sisters tee, he padded down the hall of his modest (for a Malfoy) flat to the study where he could sit in his favourite chair and examine the magical device that had patiently waited all weekend for its turn. When the clock struck ten that night, the radio jerked awake, playing an odd and very cheesy sounding tune. Not very sexy at all, in his opinion. Whatever could this show have that would draw such a big fanbase? He refused to believe just yet that eliminating the tactile part of a tryst would be such a big deal.  
  
"Good evening, folks, and welcome to S.C.R.E.W.! Or for those virgins joining us this evening; Strangers Creating Riveting Erotica Weekly. Catchy, right? My name's Voxie, the DJ with Moxie!"  
  
Draco scoffed under his breath, "If that isn't Lee Jordan, I'll eat my shirt..."  
  
"--Let's start off with a bang tonight from a couple called Bonnie & Clyde…"  
  
The unmistakable soft giggles, breathy 'Z's and swallowed syllables of the very French Fleur Delacour, (and, if Draco guessed correctly, several Beauxbatons alumnae), came through the speaker, like delicate, festive tissue paper. Some of his coworkers would say Bill was quite the lucky husband, but Draco preferred to keep his kinks between himself and his partner when the time came. Yes, utterly devoted, but a minx in the sack. Too bad those qualities happened to be mutually exclusive in his experience. He was dwelling so intently on the still jagged memory of Pansy at their old place, tangled in sheets he didn’t recognize, crooning for another to come take what was his, that Draco didn't realize 'Les Femmes Et Le Francophile' had finished, and Lee/Voxie, was introducing the next submission from Crimson & Drover.  
  
The audio began with a decisive smack. "Y-y-yes, Master! I'm sorry!" The voice yelped. Was that Zabini punishing Weasley? Good for them! Growing up in that veritable greenhouse of gingers, no wonder Ron still craved discipline after leaving the nest. Most of the British Wizarding community would agree they were glad the Gryffindor was no longer rampantly denying it.  
  
A few more anonymous petit morts followed the budding BDSM vignette, but so far, nothing had truly caught his fancy. Not to say he wasn't open-minded. Just particular. His date earlier in the week turned out to be another dud. A combination of bubble-headedness paired with too much of an interest in Malfoy business before the war and not of the man that was sitting across the table from her. At least the risotto had been satisfactory.  
  
As he toyed absentmindedly with the drawstring on his pants, the enchanted radio crackled, bringing Draco back to reality. "Our final submission comes from a caller by the name of Andromeda who writes, 'This is to give me the courage to face him when my heart cannot.' Oof! How you do like that, folks? We've got a secret admirer situation on our hands! Well, more like her hands, if you catch my snitch-- Anyhow, I'll leave you with this..."  
  
Draco tilted back in his seat, only marginally invested at this point. If all else failed, he'd at least have an interesting icebreaker for the next time Blaise owled him for drinks. The stranger let slip a weighted breath, as if to let on she couldn't believe she'd be doing this. Well, too late now, Mystery Caller. In for a Sickle, in for a Galleon. Her voice was pleasant enough, if a little hard to place (voice charm, perhaps?), but he supposed that was the point when one didn't have a face to attach to a name, and one was free to be their true self. Not like he'd had much experience in that department... One day at a time, he reluctantly reminded himself.  
  
The speaker purred out the sound of a zipper being pulled sinfully lower, followed by the garment hitting the floor. Wood? It sounded like his father's library, not the cold, unwelcoming stone of the Slytherin dungeons. As for the room size, he got his unspoken answer after what sounded like a pair of stockings being unclipped from her garters, then thrown across the other side of the room, sliding down the wall before crumpling on the floor. Oh, this woman was good. Very good. Draco appreciated that fact that someone invested in the buildup as much as the climax. And legwear. His skin began to heat from the unspoken promise of her seduction. Maybe this night wasn't going to be a total loss.  
  
She sank down onto a bed that was thankfully squeak-free. He heard a small sigh of contentment, like this was her panacea for the week. At the sliding of curtain rungs closer together and the sound of heavy cloth releasing from above, the air seemed to warm deeply, growing infinitely more intimate. So she had a four-poster bed, hmm? He made note of the surrounding space. Maybe she liked to be tied up. Or liked to do the tying. His cock twitched eagerly at the thought of playing out both circumstances.  
  
He reached into his pants to rub himself affirmingly, taking time to stroke the full length of it underneath the fabric. A set of three snaps signaled her bra coming off, mercifully setting loose what he could only surmise as a set of breasts as eager as their owner to be worshipped till the cockatrice crowed at dawn. A hushed moan arose when he heard a set of hands slide across her body, presumably stopping to fondle first one tit, then the other. Three cheers for symmetry, Draco thought. Or would that be four?  
  
The muffled noise of a latch unclasping more than likely from across the room startled him equally from his lusty reverie as the marked use of non-verbal magic. Draco was starting to suspect that this anonymous witch was more than meets the eye. Hm. He made a mental note to have a talk with Lee the next day for any hints on the talented stranger. The curtains parted to let something pass through, and he prayed for a split second that her clandestine capers stayed solitaire.  
  
A pair of sweet lips supplied just enough moisture to slick whatever she had drawn near her. She was still performing solo. Good. Draco heard them purse around the object and dared to briefly imagine himself in its place. He felt his cock swell and rise proudly to the occasion. He rewarded himself with several more strokes, squeezing tighter as he neared the tip. She panted out a breath around the toy as it filled up more space in her mouth. She began testing, calculating, pushing it as much as it would let her at each subsequently bolder attempt. Another shockwave rushed through him, his hips bucking at the thought of her wicked mouth enveloping his stiffness.  
  
She took a break to reach down into her panties and bring her fingers back up to her lips. Fuck, he loved that. Pansy had refused to do it for him point-blank. In retrospect they had been pretty incompatible, stuck in an endless cycle of bickering and stubborn silence, never getting to the make-up sex stage. That didn't mean it didn't hurt like Fiendfyre when he caught her cheating though. The stranger's moans graciously brought him back in the moment, so he vowed then and there to stop letting the regrets of his past interfere with his very promising present.

Her underwear quickly got excommunicated to the corner where it could keep her banished stockings company. It didn't take long for Draco to get fully hard again listening to her distracted whimpers of pleasure as she explored the newly exposed flesh. He wanted to see her naked and vulnerable and  _wanting._ He could tell when she began using her toy inside of her when her tone arched upwards like the back of a lover. The radio now broadcasted a startling amount of wetness accumulating in between her thighs from the teasing and thrusting of it, concrete assurance that she was just as riled up as her audience.

His ears picked up on a faintly uttered 'Tremes Faciterum'. Was that... Two buzzers going? Draco just about fell out of his chair. Naughty witch! Most women he'd been with were awfully uptight about anything related to their 'Floo Network'. Whomever she was dedicating this to must be the world's biggest prat not to notice such a nymph under their nose! One set of vibrations took on a more methodical path of tracing deliberate circles around her clit while the other skimmed lower and lower until it reached her tightest hole. He could only dream of how it felt for her to play with it, steadily pushing and withdrawing only to plunge back in again. Her breath synced with the rhythm of her actions. He subconsciously started mirroring her pace in a mental attempt to simulate her presence. She knew exactly what she was doing, and he admired her all the more for it. Sweet Circe, he wanted her writhing under his hand, in his lap, on his face, drenching him in her excitement.  
   
His cock now saluting the heavens, Draco squeezed out another wave of ecstasy. His form was contorted painfully in the seat, but if he readjusted, he was afraid the woman with her enchantment would disappear. His mind ran wild at the idea of this mysterious madame. He wondered if she would be the same coy but utterly sinful tease with the right person. This someone she was afraid to approach. And yet, still desired all the same...  
  
Her cries crescendoed at her breaking point, her body filled in all the right places, and it soon became too much for him to hold back. His frenzied grasp tightened while the shudders overtook him, reaching the precipice of white-hot temptation, and he couldn't help but to finally give in to falling into the abyss.  
  
When his hand finally stilled, his heart slowed from a pixie wing's pace, and every drop of come was spent, one thing had become adamantly clear. Draco was hooked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S.C.R.E.W.'s theme song: https://youtu.be/gatIk3z9a7Y
> 
> Headcanon: Since Lee spent some time growing up at the Burrow causing mischief with the Twins, they would all eventually be exposed to the wonderful world of 60s Muggle Britpop by Arthur having it on somewhere in the background, (or him gallantly serenading Molly after a glass... or several of Odgen's Old).
> 
> Tremes Faciterum = Tremefácere (to cause to shake) and Iterum (again). Yay, Latin!
> 
> Trying my hand at writing a longer fic this time! I hope you enjoy it :D


	2. You Know What I Mean

The next morning, every face Draco passed held the possibility of performing. Secretaries, mail clerks, solicitors, all of them possibly harboring a vocal alter-ego.  
  
He was rounding the corner swiftly, too eager to reach the sanctuary of his Ministry office so his brain would stop concocting wild yarns about random strangers, when he promptly ran smack into none other than Lee Jordan.   
  
" 'Fess up, ' _Voxie_ '- Who was last night's caller or I'll hex more than just your fake name off," Draco sneered with as much vitriol as he could summon to hide his anxiety. Unfortunately, Lee didn't seem too phased by this technique.   
  
"Sorry there, mate- You have to submit something before I can pass along your admiration." Lee shrugged, not denying the accusation one iota. "I don't make the rules; I just enforce them. The creators of this would be very displeased if I started passing along every single Dean, Seamus, and Harry's contact information to our valued contributors. Besides, where's your sense of adventure? You being named after a dragon an' all."   
  
"Fine," he spat. The old schoolmate had shot up like a Whomping Willow since graduation, making it incredibly hard to intimidate from several inches below, but he would have to rely on memories from what seemed like a lifetime ago.   
  
"If it gets out my name is attached to this charade at all, you're the first one I'm coming after." His eyes narrowed, flashing steel, finally reminiscent of the old serpentine behaviour.   
  
"Great! I look forward to hearing from you!" Lee cheerfully bellowed down the hallway as they parted ways. Draco couldn't help but wince. He may have switched over to the good guys after Voldemort's defeat, but that didn’t mean he liked playing by someone else's rules so easily.   
  
This damned hero business was for the hippogriffs.


End file.
